I donated my hair for the third time in my life. It was scarier than the second time and the second time was scarier than the first, so I’ll guess that the fourth time will be even more scary than this time which oddly comforted me when on this long train of thought before the hair dresser chopped twelve inches off of my head. But now a little girl has a pretty wig and I hope she loves those twelve inches as much as I did.
This doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is to me. I know how sad I was when I chose to cut those twelve inches off of my hair and still have another 8, so I can’t imagine how a little girl who has no choice but to not have any hair feels. My entire life my hair has made me feel pretty. When my hair looks good, I feel good. When my hair looks bad, I feel bad. That’s how my mind has always worked. This makes me so sad to think that maybe another girl out there feels that same way about her hair but she doesn’t have the choice to wake up tomorrow and curl it to feel pretty. Long-er hair is the most feminine part of a girl and the fact that there are girls who wake up and do not have the option to feel like a girl (which is damn-near the most empowering thing today, am I right ladies??) makes me want to cut off the other eight inches I have so that I can make another gal feel good again.
I would like to clarify that I am not trying to make the assumption or stereotype that girls are only pretty if they have long hair or that long hair is prettier, I just know that hair makes ME feel pretty, and I know I am not the only girl who feels that way. I just hope that in the case that if another little girl who feels this way about her hair has hair loss, she has the opportunity to get a wig and feel good about herself again.